


Awfully Close

by Nocturned



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Asphyxiation, Boot Humping, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Claiming, Coming In Pants, Dubious Consent, M/M, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Sexual Violence, Submission, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 20:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20121520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocturned/pseuds/Nocturned
Summary: Caught on the battlefield, Claude comes face to face with someone from his past- how unfortunately they are on opposing sides.





	Awfully Close

**Author's Note:**

> (No Major Plot Spoilers)
> 
> Dimitri and Claude are probably both sexually repressed okay

The smoke from fields and homes burning to nothing but cinders clogged the air with a dark miasma that threatened to swallow the sky whole- a sight Claude stared up at as his horse went tumbling forward, it’s legs cut out from beneath it by the enemy. 

He had little time to think about what was to become of the Leicester Alliance if he were to die here and now before the impact of the rough terrain met the young leader. The view from the ground wasn’t any more pleasant- Claude clutched his side and tried to rally himself to his feet only to fall to the ground when a heavy boot struck his back. 

His body crumpled forward, dirt and mud commingling in the mire turned battlefield. It was hardly an ideal location to fight, but the Leicester forces had been routed after a retreat from a brief clash with an imperial stronghold. Numbers already diminished and supplies low, the surprise attack came too soon, too fast for his men to retaliate or retreat effectively. It was a death trap.

“So this is the might of the alliance?” A voice mocked, but the humor was all but missing from the deep growl that made Claude’s blood run cold. The weight of the shoe that struck him still lingered on his upper spine, the pressure increasing briefly only for the force to withdraw.  
”Really? In what world would you triumph over the Emperor with mere archers and a merchant army? You were supposed to be the smart one, Claude.”

Before he could protest, Claude was hauled up by two armored knights. His body stung from the pain of his fall and the ache of unhealed wounds collected from the seemingly endless string of battles that had transpired over the last few weeks. The Alliance Leader’s head hung limply, staring at his muddied uniform instead of meeting the gaze of the man before him. 

“Now I wouldn’t call this is the ‘worst class reunion ever’- but you’re really trying to go all out, huh?” Claude remarked, tone light despite following the jab with labored breath, teeth grit in pain. It was hard to be the charming, calm and collected man he was known to be when his lungs felt ready to burst. 

His little act of resistance was short-lived when one of the two soldiers yanked his head back by the hair along his nape, forcing the captured man to stare up at the frigid stare of someone once so familiar.

A ghost of someone he knew, he supposed. That was what stood before him. Dimitri only in name, the bloodthirsty beast was nothing like the young man Claude had considered a comrade and friend. 

A pale, thin face framed by a wild tangle of long blonde hair, Dimitri looked more the part of a marauding, crazed animal than a king of Faerghus. 

“I will say this, you’ve haven’t changed,” Dimitri spoke, staring down at the other lord with disdain and the shadow of something else, lurking just beneath the surface. A cold gauntlet clad hand grabbed his sore jaw, roughly handling his face and forcing it to move as he wished. The appraising stare made Claude swallow thickly, unable to squirm away with the two guards flanking him.

“All those quick quips and schemes back in the day, always the first to have something to interject and the last to get a word in- was it all a farce? I don’t think someone with half the intelligence you allegedly posses would fall so easily into my snare.” The gloved fingers tightened along Claude’s jaw, making the man wince as new pain began to creep along the sensitive area. “It would be so disappointing if you were just a pretty face in the end, wouldn’t it?” 

Again, the grip tightened as the northern commander snarled. Claude began to see spots dance along the edges of his vision as the pain elevated rapidly, the bone creaking. His jaw was going to break, Claude thought in a panic, eyes wide and locked with Dimitri’s unwavering glower.

“I would be disappointed.” The grip eased away, but the gloves hand remained on his aching face, accompanied by the deep whisper of the king or Faerghus. Claude was caught off guard by the sudden brush of the heavy hand over his cheek, before moving closer to his lips-

Claude acted without thinking, an admittedly rare feat of unplanned, unwise impulse. Welling up the saliva and blood that had accumulated on his tongue, spitting in Dimitri’s face. The red-tinged saliva splatters across the bridge of his nose, a strand managing to reach the rough fabric of his eyepatch. 

Crashing waves of regret tore through Claude as the sneer fell from Dimitri's face, replaced by a silent, terrifying snarl. The king's sheer size felt all the more apparent now, broad shoulders rigid and unmovable. There was stillness, enough to make Claude's heart pound like a rabbit caught under the claws of a predator. 

“Report back to Dedue, immediately. I’ll see to the prisoner myself.” Dimitri barked at the two heavily armored soldiers, radiating hostility. There was no room for objection, not that the men would dream of disobeying a direct command. 

Both knights slackened their grip, letting Claude fall into the mud once more with little grace. The royal vestments of Leicester, fine silver threads, golden tassels- all of its radiant trappings were tarnished by the disgusting murk. 

Prisoner, the word embedded fresh dread in the pit of Claude's stomach. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus didn't keep prisoners. The sect that Dimitri ruled tore through its enemies with no desire to hold captives to put other political powers in deadlock or amass wealth from ransom payoffs. It simply didn't happen- not when the king's spear was fit to tear through anything that stood between himself and his goals. 

"Nothing to say? Now that's a first-" Dimitri growled, heaving Claude up through the mud up onto his knees. Resistance was pointless, a futile waste of the little energy that Claude still possessed. It was wiser to conserve his energy, hope for an opening to break away-

"Doesn't change a thing though." The freezing gauntlets of the leader of Faerghus closed around Claude's throat as he spoke. "Even a lord should know his place" The sudden pressure forced the air from Claude's mouth and cut off any oxygen that could possibly reach his lungs. The shock of Dimitri's hands clasping his throat in an unbreakable vice only prompts him to kick his legs, trying to free himself while clawing at his aggressor's hands. 

Claude felt like he was burning up, his stomach roiling with unbearable heat that was growing worse by the moment. Dimitri's hands had completely encircled his neck with ease, ready to send him into dark oblivion if he persisted. But then, without warning, Dimitri's grip loosened for a moment.

Dimitri's gaze was turned downwards, eyebrows furrowed in silent contemplation. The abrupt stillness gave Claude a chance to take a ragged greedy breath, all the while still locked in the other lord's grip. 

"Claude..." The deep rumble from the blonde made the Leicester lord keen, an entirely accidental sound that the man wished he could blame on his oxygen-deprived brain. Opening his mouth to assemble a quick excuse, Claude was interrupted before he could even formulate the words he needed.

Instead, a hand reached between his thighs and found a growing bulge, his trousers doing nothing to cover up Claude's half-formed erection. Dimitri's gloved hands closed around the other's groin, firmly kneading the newly discovered surprise.

"I see you are still full of surprises, foolish of me to think I had the schemer figured out." Dimitri mused, one hand remaining rigid against Claude's throat while the other squeezed rhythmically. Another involuntary sound escaped Claude, a deeper groan that was impossible to suppress. 

"Me, surprising? It's you who I can't figure out. Is this really how you treat all your prisoners? Choking them out and then fondling their-"

Claude had managed to get his wits together to speak, only for the sting of a backhanded slap to silence him immediately. The burning sting of his cheek made fresh tears spring to his eyes- and his cock twitches against Dimitri's hand.

"Always the talker." Dimitri shoved Claude hard, allowing the other to fall backward, limbs awkwardly splayed out in his attempt to catch himself in the fall. "I think I prefer your obedience."

The heel of Dimitri's heavy boot came down on Claude's crotch, pressing down until the captured leader grunted, eyes screwing shut. His hands dug into the earth, clawing for purchase as he was roughly simulated. 

"This is a far prettier sight-" Dimitri reflected casually as if he were referring to a pleasant sunset and not grinding his heel into the pathetic whining mess of a man below him. "Such a good boy..."

The praise flipped a switch in Claude's brain, hips jolting upwards in response to Dimitri's voice. Blind need drove him to thrust again, grinding against the entirety of the king's boot. Every breath came out in a ragged huff, face flushed with lustfull fervor.

"Look at you, no better than a dog after it's master's attention. So needy." Dimitri uttered, bringing the tip of his shoe to Claude's cock. A growing stain was slowly seeping through the fabric of Claude's pants, a detail not gone unnoticed by the ruler of Faerghus. "Humping my boot and you're already at your edge." Dimitri brought his foot down hard, stepping on the other's arousal. 

"Are you going to be my good boy?" Dimitri demands roughly, hovering his boot just above Claude's straining cock. Sea green eyes stared up at him pleadingly, mouth open in a breathless gasp for just a bit more. 

"Then come already."

Claude fell apart upon being commanded, climax surging through his body. He writhed and cried as he ruined his undergarments, soaking the fabric through with messy torrents of his seed. The king watched with a narrowed eye, committing every expression that flickered across Claude's face to memory.

"Who do you belong to?" Dimitri's question was firm, direct enough to cut through the haze of pain and pleasure. 

Bleary eyes were locked on his, Claude's voice warbling but resolute. "You..." Dimitri crouched down, hands tangling in Claude's hair and yanking hard to pull him to eye level before snarling,

"And don't forget it."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
